


i see the sky is on the ground

by epiproctan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lance (Voltron), M/M, Masturbation, Pining Lance (Voltron), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8780950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epiproctan/pseuds/epiproctan
Summary: Lance is pretty frustrated, but the Blue Lion is definitely willing to help her Paladin out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i've been wanting to write for a really long time...it didn't really turn out the way i wanted it to but one day i'll write a real fic that's not just pwp in the same vein i think
> 
> also since i wrote a pining keith fic last i guess it's lance's turn to pine here we go

Lance slumps down into the pilot seat, unsure of what to do with his hands. He wipes their palms on his pants, leaves them settled on his knees for lack of a better place to put them. One index finger taps a broken rhythm against his kneecap, the other hand tightens and then shakes itself out. It seems a little bit more real, here. He’s been thinking about doing this for awhile. Spent the whole day imagining it, actually. But now that he’s actually here it feels kind of inappropriate. For _him_ to think of it that way, this must be _really_ bad.

Blue, even stationary, is filled with that subtle buzz of energy that gives Lance goosebumps. The kind that he gets in sharp anticipation, raised on his arms and the back of his neck. Usually these are triggered by flying through space or kicking Galra ass but today Lance has something a little different on his schedule. The electricity gets under his skin, thrums there. Blue is just warm enough on the inside.

This is probably going to be good. Probably.

He takes a deep breath, wriggles comfortably into the chair. Might as well get started, then.

Lance isn’t hard at the moment but he’s been pretty frustrated recently. Living in a flying castle surrounded by nothing but empty space is fun and all, but it’s actually not. Thanks to that particular set of circumstances he’s been feeling pent-up, in more ways than one. He woke up this morning from a dream he only remembers in blurry flashes of black hair and dark eyes with a painful hard-on and the itch to _do something different_. Jerking off in his room or the shower is fine and all but there’s not much as far as interesting material goes. Switching up his location is a surefire way to have a better time, right?

Why not kill two birds with one stone and bond with his lion while he’s at it?

So here he is, sitting in Blue’s cockpit, fully clothed, limp, and trying to will himself into the mood. It’s not that he’s not horny. He definitely is. So Lance tries— _he really does!_ —to think of a generic pretty girl. Long wavy hair, full lips, tanned even skin, a huge rack, narrow waist, round ass, long legs. He imagines her on her knees, batting her eyelashes up at him, asking in a low sultry voice what he wants her to do for him.

His dick’s not even _trying_ , goddamn it.

Where can he get his hands on some good space porn around here? It has to exist somewhere. He can’t imagine that an obsession with the act of copulation is something that belongs to humanity alone. That’s got to be some kind of universal constant. He really doesn’t want to ask Allura or Coran, but maybe he can subtly get Pidge to hook him up to some good ol’ Earth websites, somehow. Maybe he should put this whole adventure off until tomorrow, make this a really grand affair, get some top-quality shit and kick back in his lion and just go at it.

As he’s pondering this he’s also rubbing lazily along the inside of his thigh, occasionally pulling up to cup himself through his jeans. It must be this that tips Blue off to what he’s after, because she gently prods at him, mentally. It’s one of those _I know what to do_ kinds of feelings that Lance has gotten from her while flying or in battle before, but they’re just sitting here in the hangar right now, and to be honest, Lance is actually mortified that she’s paying attention to him while he’s contemplating this.

Feeling a hot blush spreading up his body, he considers calling the whole thing off for good and never coming back here with intentions like this, but Blue presses more insistently. Comfortingly. It’s like she doesn’t mind. In fact, Lance is kinda getting a pleased vibe over here. It’s a little weird. But maybe she’s picked up a porn channel or something. Maybe she’s got exactly what Lance needs.

Well, why the hell not. This is what he came for, right? Who is he to argue with a magic space lion.

That thought doesn’t stop him from stumbling over the single word he says in reply. “Wh-what?” he asks her, his voice low and cautious.

He feels her pushing against his brain, excited but gentle, and then, suddenly

The image bursts into his mind in a fit of color and light, so vivid that it completely eclipses his actual vision, that Lance thinks with a pounding heart that he’s actually been transported somewhere else for a second. And that somewhere else is with his back against the headboard of his bed, while he watches someone in front of him drag their black shirt off over their head in a swift fluid motion, one-handed, revealing an obviously male (and undeniably attractive) torso. Black hair falls around his face as he crawls forward across the bed towards Lance, heated eyes hungry under dark eyelashes, biting on his lower lip. He comes to kneel between Lance’s legs, not breaking eye contact, placing a hand on his knee and running it up the inside of his thigh, until Keith is almost touching his—

Lance pulls in a frantic gulp of air, and then scrambles out of his seat, bolt upright.

“Nope, no, no, no, no, no,” he says. “That’s _not_ funny, Blue!”

But he feels her touch again, her consciousness arranging itself around his own. She’s amused at his reaction, for sure, in a way that makes Lance’s embarrassment prick at him sharply, but she wasn’t joking around. She’s trying to help him. Really.

And maybe she isn’t doing a bad job of it. Lance is suddenly half-hard in his pants, without any idea how he got that way.

Well, okay. Maybe he knows how he got that way.

And maybe, _maybe_ , she’d created that image based on some desire she found in his subconscious or something.

But uh. It had worked. She reminds him of this as he considers once again leaving, going somewhere where his giant lion robot can’t pick his dirty secrets out of his mind and then shove them back inside in ways that make them feel all too real. It had worked.

With a dramatic sigh Lance flops back into the chair. He can’t believe he’s going to do this. But the afterimage of Keith looking at him like he’s going to devour him completely is ingrained on the back of his eyelids so he sees it every time he blinks. And...well...he’s not _not_ into that. He guesses.

“Be gentle with me,” he tells Blue with a chuckle, but it ends up coming out weak and nervous.

She seems to understand, because she’s a lot less aggressive this time. She slides the image into his head instead of blasting it there, the colors and shapes shifting into focus while the cockpit around him fades. Lance closes his eyes and finds everything vibrant, almost tangible, in this world she’s constructed in his mind.

He’s exactly where he left off. Keith is sitting between his legs, shirtless, and his hand is warm against Lance’s thigh. He can’t _really_ feel it there, he knows. It’s more of a phantom ghosting along his skin, completely invented by his own imagining. He’s still completely dressed, but this made-up Keith is not going to let that be the case for very much longer, judging by the expression on his face when his fingers brush against Lance’s crotch through his pants.

Lance palms himself as Keith does, feeling himself harden quickly under Keith’s attention. Keith leans in across the space between them, but doesn’t kiss him. Instead he hovers there, their noses almost touching, one eyebrow raised in challenge. _Quiznak,_ he’s hot. Like, _really really_ hot. From the way he licks his lips after his eyes dart down to Lance’s mouth to how he takes his hand off Lance’s cock to snake under his shirt and rub at his hipbones, every miniscule motion has Lance already squirming.

Lance tries for a moment to tell himself he’s only thinking that way because what Blue’s conjured up for him is of course catering to what he likes. He’s not _really_ this into Keith. Not enough for just the image of him to be driving him this crazy already, for his heart to be thundering in his chest. But Blue gives him a sharp jab, and Lance is forced to remember that time earlier this week in the middle of the night when Keith had stumbled, all mussed hair and dark bags under his eyes, into the common room where Lance was sitting, and even then Lance’s stomach had given a traitorous flip. Keith had no business looking that endearingly disheveled.

Okay, so maybe Lance kind of a little bit has it bad for Keith. Being trapped in space with only six other people starts to mess with your head, okay? And it’s _definitely_ only because Keith would probably fuck him real good. Like he’s going to pretty soon in whatever weird interactive porn movie Blue is beaming into Lance’s head.

Lance shifts forward as if to kiss Keith, to close the distance between them in this image of him, but Keith darts away, smirking. Instead he runs both his hands under Lance’s shirt, up his chest. Lance, in real life, scrambles to get his shirt off, mirrored by how Keith tugs it over his head in this fantasy. He flings it to the side, not paying attention to where it lands. He’s focusing more on how Keith thumbs over one of his nipples, and then looking up at him through those dark eyelashes, lowers his lips to it.

As Lance pinches at his own nipples he moans, imagining what it’d be like to really feel Keith tonguing there, snagging it between his teeth, giving a gentle tug and then a suck. Keith focuses wholeheartedly on one, and then when it becomes red and raw he kisses his way across Lance’s chest to the other, staring up at Lance’s face the entire time.

Lance wants to touch Keith too. He reaches out to pull him up for a kiss but his arms meet empty air. Right, it’s not real. Just go back to touching yourself, Lance.

He slides his hands down his own body like Keith is sliding his, slow and savoring. Lance cracks an eye open, and then slams it back shut. As much as he loves Blue, watching him touch himself inside of her is nowhere near as hot as Keith’s flushed cheeks and wet lips as he presses his mouth against Lance’s hip, sucking over the jutting bone. Keith’s skin, pale and smooth, is a beautiful contrast against Lance’s own. Keith’s eyes are dark and glittering embers.

Lance pushes his hands into his pants at the same time Keith begins to slip his fingertips down them. Deciding they’re not necessary anymore, Lance hurries to kick them off. Keith helps pull them off of him, and then goes after his boxers, too. They land somewhere on the floor, and Lance is completely naked, hard cock curving to rest against his stomach.

“Got something to hide?” he snarks at Keith, before realizing that he probably could’ve just thought to Blue that he wanted Keith’s pants off too. This is more realistic though, he guesses, more immersive. Either way, Keith is smirking at him, unzipping, then tugging his boxers and pants down in one go.

Lance has never seen Keith naked with a boner before, so he has no idea if this is an accurate portrayal or not. But he likes what he sees. Naked is kind of a really good look for Keith. Like really good. The Lance-is-having-a-hard-time-catching-his-breath sort of good. Keith’s hours spent training have definitely not gone to waste, and although Lance has never really thought about whether he’d be a top or a bottom in a situation like this, he doesn’t think he’d mind that cock up his ass.

(That’s a lie, by the way, he admits to himself absently. He has actually thought about whether he’d be a top or a bottom. In this exact situation. He likes dwelling extensively on both positions if he’s to be perfectly honest.)

Keith returns to the bed, but instead of crawling over Lance this time he settles down between his knees, shouldering his thighs apart. He’s as swift in this as he is in everything else and Lance can barely get his hand around his dick in time before Keith is leaning over it, staring up at him as if watching for his reaction as he pulls it into his mouth. That wet heat behind his lips must, in reality, feel like something beyond Lance’s comprehension. But just the image of him taking Lance deeper and deeper into his mouth, never moving his eyes from his face, is already driving Lance crazy.

He tries to slow down his strokes but his legs are tensing already, his breaths are coming in short gasps. “ _Quiznak_ , Keith,” he moans, and Keith responds, raising an eyebrow, drawing a hand in towards him, under him, so that he can….

Lance bolts up, scrambles for the bottle of lotion he knows he has somewhere in here. His hands are shaking as he grips it. The cockpit seems to be thrumming around him, some deep energy pervading his bones, sparking his nerves, burning through his veins. He flops back into the chair, jerky and hurried and all wound up, then pours lotion all over his hand without restraint and closes his eyes again.

Oh but— _oh_. Somehow in the last few seconds he’d forgotten how perfectly Keith is built, and how much he wants to tangle his fingers into that hair, and how the sight of him taking Lance entirely into his mouth makes Lance feel like he’s being strangled in the most delectable way possible. The tight heat hits him again like jumping into a pool full of sunlight.

And that’s not all. Keith’s taking his mouth off of Lance’s cock, only to replace it with his hand. As for his mouth, it moves lower, pressing kisses against his balls, the juncture of his thigh and his body, his perineum, until Lance is fidgeting in the chair and spreading his legs open as wide as he can, his thighs trembling like the faint flaps of butterfly wings. With the same boldness that Keith gives everything he does, he doesn’t hesitate to stick out his tongue and press the flat of it against Lance’s hole.

Or at least that’s what it looks like he’s doing. Lance can’t see it very well and it’s not like he can actually _feel_ it, other than how he’s got his own fingers down there, running in loose circles over his tight skin. But the way Keith looks from here, all wild flashes of his eyes up towards Lance’s face and impatient, aggressive tosses of his head, makes Lance have to grit his teeth together to keep from moaning. The sounds coming from down there are wet, _filthy_ , in the most pleasing way possible. He feels them in his toes.

As if to hold himself open for Keith, Lance grabs his own ass with one hand. The other is still dragging around the outside of his hole, but he can so easily imagine Keith’s tongue pushing out, poking inside, so he presses the tip of a finger in himself. In his mind Keith’s still stroking at his cock, long, legato pulls, but Lance doesn’t have enough hands for that. Instead he twists around onto his side, slipping down the chair, rearranging his arms, and grinds his cock mindlessly against the seat.

In response a low rumbling rises inside the cockpit, like distant thunder. It vibrates through Lance and he shakes as it rolls up his spine. It’s Blue’s purring, he realizes distantly, before getting distracted again by the string of saliva that hangs from Keith’s mouth as he pulls away to take a breath. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, not once breaking eye contact with Lance, before diving forward again. Lance twists his first finger fully inside and begins to add a second, imagining Keith’s rough, wet tongue, his puffs of breath hot against his ass instead of the cool sting of the lotion dripping from his fingers.

He knows somewhere in his mind that he’s leaving slick trails of precome on the seat as he drags his cock across it. It’s easy to forget about how he’ll have to clean that up later when Keith’s fingers are so lovely circled around his shaft. Lance watches that when he’s not watching Keith’s face. Both are transfixing, enthralling, Keith’s expression focused and ravenous, Keith’s fingers knowing where to tighten and press just where Lance likes it best, occasionally drawing his palm over the head, which Lance _swears_ he can feel as a jolt through his pelvis.

Keith raises his head, sits back on his heels. Lance, by this point, has two fingers fully inside of himself, but the picture of Keith drinking in Lance’s whole body with his dark, wanting eyes, stroking at his own dick in preparation, snatches the breath straight out of Lance’s lungs. It takes him a long moment before Lance remembers how to breathe properly, inhaling deeply all in one go. Blue’s purring rises in volume, lowers in pitch, and Lance can feel it deep in his gut, stirring something hot and frantic.

Keith leans forward again, lines up, and Lance feels his mouth fall open, finds himself babbling.

“Yes, _yes_ , inside me— _please_ ,” he tells him. He’s vaguely aware that in some other mindset these words would be fatally embarrassing, and he can’t tell if it’s the knowledge that this Keith isn’t real that makes him say it or the fact that he doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on in his life. “Hurry _up_ , come on.”

Keith obeys.

Lance slides a third finger into himself as he watches Keith grit his teeth and slowly push his hips forward. The stretch is so _good_ , Lance can almost imagine that it’s the real thing. Keith’s bangs stick to his forehead with sweat, his chest is flushed. He looks down, watches as he enters Lance in a smooth, gentle movement, his cock disappearing into the pink, stretched hole. Lance watches too, because honestly that’s infinitely hotter than any dumb Earth porn right there. When Keith is fully inside of him, he looks up, falls completely silent.

Keith’s wet lips are red and parted, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and his shoulders shaking with the effort of not moving. He’s leaning forward towards Lance a little bit, his hands coming to grab his hips in a motion that could easily be described as possessive. His eyebrows are low over his eyes, but his face softens when he looks at Lance, an expression of something like affection taking over with a warm, happy quirk of his lips. He tilts his head, equal parts sexy and adorable, and cocks an eyebrow in question.

This, this here, it’s what almost breaks the magic of this fantasy, this make-believe, for Lance. This is what makes his heart drop, his fingers stop prodding. He snaps his eyes open, fighting the illusion. Because Keith, this Keith here in his head, obviously feels something for Lance, something more than the physical need to fuck him. This invented Keith cares about him, cares _for_ him. He’s looking at him like he’s not just here to fulfill some physical desire but to display his emotions, his warm, devoted, fond, tender _emotions_ , to him through this act.

Lance, he can’t suspend his disbelief this far. He can’t imagine that Keith would ever actually feel that way about him, even if it’s like something inside of him is being torn apart when he admits that to himself. His throat tightens. Not in a nice way.

He’s about to push himself to his feet, to pull his fingers out of himself, but the vibrating of the machinery around him redoubles. Blue’s purring crashes into his ears, stills him, restrains him, keeps him twisted and bent over the chair as he is. She intensifies her efforts, so that the image is stuck there in Lance’s head, of Keith connected to him, deep inside, looking at him like he’s about to shatter his universe. Like he already has, just by existing.

_Let yourself have this_ , Lance tells himself. Or maybe it’s Blue telling him to tell himself. Either way he’s weak, and he’s in Keith’s arms, and in his head, for a little while, Keith wants him.

He takes a deep breath, and then lets himself grin back. “Come on, are you gonna fuck me or what?”

Lance matches the driving motion of his own fingers in himself to the pace that Keith sets in his head. It’s fast and hard, the way Lance imagines Keith likes it, as that’s the way Keith likes all things. Almost immediately Lance is nailing his own prostate, and his vision sparks. It’s violently good, with the way his dick is getting friction against the seat as he fucks back onto his own fingers.

“Shit, _Keith_ ,” he’s moaning again already, over the sound of his heart thudding so loud in his chest he can feel it reverberate through his entire torso. His breathing comes in ragged gasps. It’s an effort to think so he doesn’t.

Keith looks up from where they’re joined at the sound of his name, his mouth open in equal parts exertion and pleasure, his hips never stopping their even rhythm. His eyes search Lance’s face, dart down to his heaving chest and then back up, like he’s appreciating the sight. He pulls a hand back and runs it through his sweat-dampened hair, and it sticks back, letting Lance see his whole face. It’s almost beyond what Lance can take right now, the heat in his gaze, the need straining in him.

“Is that the best you can do?” Lance tries to laugh off the feeling that blooms in his chest, but it comes out more like a whine. His eyes are locked on Keith’s, his voice is broken and rough. “Come on, harder, _harder_.”

Keith speeds up, sweat dripping down to his chin, his forehead creased in concentration. Blue’s purring feels like an earthquake around Lance, some kind of cosmic demolition _inside_ of him, heightening every single sensation until it’s unbearable. In this moment he’s one with her. What he’s feeling is hers, too, and it’s both because of her and for her. He’s wrapped up in her, wrapped up in Keith, and it’s so intense and warm and like no other kind of pleasure he’s felt before. He’s wracked by it totally, inside and out.

“ _Fuck_ , Keith, just like that.” Lance can’t stop his own babbling, though it’s hoarse and interrupted by gasps, moans. “You feel so good—fuck, _fuck_ —!”

He’s close. He curls his fingers in himself, pushes back onto his hand harder. He watches Keith’s hips snap forward, again and again. Keith’s hands are trembling. Blue’s sound fills him.

“Keith, _Keith_ , _Keith_ —,” Lance begs, and he’s coming.

He’s pulled under by it, losing focus of anything but the pleasure, until Blue pushes the image of Keith’s orgasm into his mind, synchronized with him. Keith’s head is thrown back, his eyes shut and his mouth open in a soundless moan, his body hard and beautiful as it shudders with the thrill of it. Lance wants to keep this forever, this thing that Blue has crafted for him, wants to live in this place where his climaxes are accompanied by Keith’s fiercely gorgeous ones. He strokes himself through it until he’s oversensitive, riding the frantic electric spikes through his lower body, and leans against the chair, exhausted.

Lance, breathing hard, opens his eyes.

With a fierce pang of humiliation he looks around. He’s sitting, completely naked, disheveled clothes in piles on the floor, in his lion. His come is drying across his stomach and also on the seat. There’s a mortifying squelch as he pulls his fingers slowly out of himself. And he just had the best orgasm of his life thanks to his lion and the image of Keith.

Also it’s a little chilly in the cockpit. Also also Keith isn’t actually here. He’s probably somewhere far away in the castle, completely oblivious to the things he just did to Lance in Lance’s mind. Which is kind of a shame, for a number of reasons. The most important right now being that he isn’t here to pet his hands through Lance’s hair and lay here, limp and spent, with him.

But a resounding purr starts up around Lance again, this time gentle and soft. He feels it in his core, like he did before, but it’s warm and uplifting and calm. It fills in all the parts of him, expanding in his chest and his abdomen, soothing his mind.

He sits up properly in the chair and gives the side of it a pat. “Thanks.”

She hums in response, all around him, and then slides out of his mind. Everything goes quiet.

Well, maybe Keith didn’t really just give him the best orgasm of his life, and maybe Lance has to clean his own come off the seat of his lion now. But he definitely feels closer to Blue than ever. And he’s not so frustrated anymore. She’d really delivered this time.

It’s a good feeling. And even though he knows he’s got to deal with this Keith thing sooner or later, now he knows where he can go to feel supported and indulged. Maybe a little too indulged. Blue spoils him, really.

But that’s probably a good thing. He deserves it, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> can't believe i wrote such a vanilla-ass smut fic smh
> 
> hmu on [tumblr](http://epiproctan.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/epiproctan)


End file.
